You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. There never is much left for me. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. “You shall go,” he declared.
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